Jigsaw Puzzle
by Pure.Vanilla
Summary: Seventeen year old Camilla makes a wish one night, a wish to regain the childhood she never properly got to experience. Little did she know that her wish would come in the form of the silver haired Guardian of Fun. Jack Frost x OC Rated T for safety
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello everyone! I saw Rise of the Guardians this weekend, and I loved it so much that I couldn't get it out of my head, so I decided to create this little piece. This will be a multi-chaptered story if you readers desire! Let me know your thoughts!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

Chapter One

_I'm eight years old again. I am standing in a dimly lit hallway covered head to toe with white flour. A nervous grin has replaced my previous cheerful expression. I sneeze and my mother laughs, smiling at me. She is now pushing both of her arms through her black winter coat. After adjusting her scarf, she zips ups her jacket and places a tender kiss on my forehead and promises to return in less than thirty minutes. I tug on her jacket sleeve, silently asking her if she would reconsider, forget the half finished cookies, and remain at home with me. _

_She shakes her head and reassures me that there is nothing to be afraid of, and that she again, will return home soon with the chocolate chips that I previously oh so desired. I regretfully let go of her arm and wave pitifully as she walks out the front door and unlocks the silver car that is parked in our driveway. _

_I close the door and walk towards the large living room window. I pull back the curtains and watch as my mother's car drives down the street. I crane my neck struggling to catch a final glimpse of the car, but as it drives further away I finally drop the curtains and move away from the window. _

_My feet make a soft padding sound as I walk down the corridor that leads into the family room. I plop down on the couch and grab the remote to turn on the television but before I can, something stops me._

_A creeping sensation that something is terribly off quickly develops and spreads through my body like wildfire. I try to shake it off but it's persistent, the feeling that something very bad is about to happen envelopes me. _

_I slowly stand up and grip the phone that's on the rounded coffee table beside the couch. I am two seconds away from pressing the button labelled 'one' to speed dial my mother when I hear the slightest creak from upstairs. _

_It's so faint that if I was watching television I would not have noticed it. An icy cold feeling washes over me and I can suddenly feel every inch of my body as if it were on fire. I suck in a deep breath, stand up, and slide my sock covered feet over the hardwood floor of the family room, but I pause in mid-step as I hear another faint creak, this time directly above my head. _

_I tighten my grip on the phone, and clench my teeth together, moving my head towards the ceiling. My eyes stay trained on the white ceiling, and when I look back down, oh how I wish I didn't, I let out a bloodcurdling scream._

_A man as tall as my father, wearing all black and a ski mask, stands in front of me. I cannot stop screaming and as he advances towards me, I fling the only thing that I have, the phone, at his figure. As soon as I do, I regret it as I realize it does nothing to stop the man that is quickly approaching me. _

_I begin hyperventilate: my whole body is shaking uncontrollably as I beg him not to hurt me. I back up against the wall, tears streaming down my face. Through my tear muddled vision, I see him draw something shiny from his back pocket: it is too late when I realize that it is a knife._

_He has thrown the large blade directly at me and I shriek, covering my head with my hands. That does nothing to protect me and I cry out as the knife makes contac-_

* * *

My eyes burst open and my whole body is flung forward by an unseen force. I regain a sense of where I am, realize that I am safe, and scramble backwards until I feel my back against the cool headboard of the bed.

I place my hand on my chest: my heart feels as if it is ready to escape the confinement of my body. It thuds loudly into my outstretched palm and I take deep calming breaths to slow it down. I place my head in my hands and release a small whimper.

I slide my feet from underneath the warm covers of my bed, and place them on the floor. They sink into the soft carpet as I grope around my nightstand to find my glasses. My hand bumps into the metal frames and I slide them on, the room clearing up from its previous blurriness. I stand up and stretch my arms over my head, hoping to clear my mind of the nightmare that I had just a couple of moments ago.

At times I genuinely yearn for it to be just a nightmare, but the reality is that it's not. My mind flashes back to that horrible day nine years ago, the day when I almost lost my life. If my father had not come home when he had, he would have found his little girl gone.

I shudder as the feelings of fear begin to creep at the corners of my mind, but I push them down.

I pad down the hallway to my nine year old brother's room and open the door to peer inside. An old habit, I suppose. I close the door softly when I realize that he is safe and make my way downstairs towards the kitchen. I switch on the light and grab a clean glass from the dishwasher and fill it up with water from the tap. The cool liquid trickling down my throat helps calm me and when I place the glass back down on the counter I feel as though the after affects of the episode that had just transpired have all gone, washed away by the same water that I had just drank.

I turn off the light in the kitchen and make my way back upstairs. I pause at the window that is located at the end of the upstairs corridor leading to my room. I place my head against the cool glass and peer out into the darkness.

I attempt to stifle my small yelp of glee when I notice that it is snowing outside. Winter is my all around, hands down, favorite season. There is just something about giving gifts and bringing happiness to those that you love that makes it hard for one not to enjoy the holiday. I clasp my hands together in delight as I smile up at the stars and moon.

It is nights like these when I am truly thankful to be alive and safe. I whisper a small prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening and as I do I can feel a small tear drop rolling down my cheek. It hangs off my chin before lightly dripping onto the window pane. I didn't even realize that I was crying. I am a mess of emotions tonight, the fear of the nightmare, the joy of seeing snow, it's overwhelming and I can't help but drift my thoughts back to the core of where it all began.

Ever since that one terrible day when I was young, I could not help but feel as though I had lost my childhood. I was traumatized and scarred at eight years old. My parents had tried everything to get me to open up to them, to become that same little girl that they had before that one horrendous day. They even went as far as to move cities and hiring a child physiatrist. Nothing worked, so eventually they gave up. As days, months, and years went by, I began to slowly come out of my shell. I began to talk to my parents again, to partake in activities at my new school, to make friends, and to try and become that same little girl that my parents thought they had lost.

It worked for a while: I managed to shut out the negative feelings that I was feeling, but the fear of being abandoned and alone again gnawed away at me every night when I would close my eyes. The fears would manifest themselves into dreams of that terrible day, dreams where I wouldn't get away from my attackers, dreams where my father wouldn't come.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts once more, and breathe in and out deeply.

My warm breath creates condensation on the window so I take my finger and draw a childish three line snowflake. I close my eyes and dare to make the wish that I have held in for so long.

As I tightly squeeze my eyes, I wish that I could regain my childhood, that I could put the past behind me and finally move on.

I let my hand drop from the window but before I can move away something catches my eye from outside.

I readjust my glasses that are currently drooping on my nose bridge, and strain my eyes into the darkness of the night. For what I am looking for, I have no clue: I swear that I saw a flash of something moving outside but I can't see anything now.

There it is again!

I can feel my mouth gape open. It can't be. I squint my eyes and press my hands against the glass of the window. I cannot believe it. There is a person, a living person, or something of that sort, leaping from roof to roof!

My eyes cannot rip away from the sight and as the person-thing, leaps closer I realize that it is a boy. A teenager nonetheless! And, he is holding a stick. A teenage boy is leaping to and from the roofs of houses with a stick.

Yep, I have officially gone insane.

Suddenly, a flash of blue blurs past the window with a strong gust of window that follows. It causes the old wooden pane to rattle and my eyes dart in the direction the blue.

From a distance I could still see the boy!

Even in the pitch black night, he is hard to miss! From the back I could see he has hair that is tinged a silver hue, a blue sweater (would explain the blue blur), and that's about all. I push myself away from the window, attempt to gather what's left of my thoughts, and turn away from the odd sight that I had just witnessed.

I mentally assess and attempt to reassure myself that I am only seeing this as a cause of the mental distress I suffered tonight. I chant this like a mantra in my head as I head back to bed.

As I dive under my warm covers I fail to notice the faint tendrils of frost that begin creeping along the corners of my windows, the beginnings of a beautiful and intricate pattern that would soon greet me in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Wow! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, and followed this story. I really appreciate it! Just as last time, I would really like it if I recieved thoughts from you guys. As a writer, I would like to know what you readers think! Thank you so much, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.

Chapter Two

A scream echoes through the house and my eyes pop open. I fling my snowman printed comforter off of myself, barely registering the shock of cold that envelopes my body as I rush out of bed. Forgetting my glasses, I almost ram head first into my door frame, but skittle around it at the last moment. As I race down the hall to find the source of the shrill shriek, my mind conjures different scenarios that could have caused the cry, all equally as terrifying.

I skid to a halt in front of my brother's room and fling the door open, bracing myself for something horrendous to be on the other side. Instead, I am greeted with Henry jumping up and down around the room, hollering about a snow day. My jaw almost drops to the ground.

"Are you for real!?" I screech, just about ready to strangle my little brother, "I almost had a heart attack because of you!" I jut an accusing finger out at him, attempting to scold the nine year old brat. Alas, he doesn't even have the decency to acknowledge that I am standing in his doorway. I stomp towards him and grab him by the shoulders, whirling him around to face me.

"Oh, hey Cam!" he chirps, as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired in the last five minutes, "guess what!" he continues, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the window, still bouncing on his heels.

"Guess what….guess what?" I echo, after my rude awakening I was not in the mood for anymore surprises, "that's all you have to-"

My brother interrupts me before I could finish. He pushes me from behind, practically squishing my face against the glass of his window.

"Look!" Henry exclaims and clasps his hands together, "isn't it _awesome_?"

As I peer outside I stifle a small gasp, I don't need my glasses to see that the street below is concealed under a blanket of crispy snow. The flakes continue to fall, swirling down in flurries as they attempt to cover the many imprints of boots that litter the side walk.

My lips tug into a smile at the sight, but I turn away to face my brother once again.

"Yeah, I guess you're right kiddo," I reply, forgetting the fact that I was upset with him a couple of moments ago.

I smirk and ruffle his shaggy brown hair while his hands go up on reflex as an effort to shield himself.

"Hey!" he protests, pushing my offending hands away, "no fair!"

I hum absentmindedly and steal a glance at Henry's alarm clock that reads 'seven thirty a.m.'.

"Are mom and dad up yet?" I ask, going over to sit on his bed. I pat the space next to me as an invitation for Henry to come and join me. He jumps on beside me and the bed lets out a loud creak.

"Yeah," he begins, sitting down on his knees, "they woke me up to tell me that school was cancelled before they left for work."

I am about to reply when he cuts in again.

"_And_," he emphasizes, a grin that Cheshire would be proud of spreads on his face before he continues, "mom said that I could invite James and Cody over."

I have the urge to slap my forehead, my mother officially hates me. The last time my brother invited his two friends over they almost turned the whole house upside down and guess who was stuck cleaning up the mess? Yours truly.

I groan, and if it's even possible his grin grows wider.

"What is it?" I dead pan and cradle my head in my hands, massaging my temples.

"_And_," Henry starts again, "dad gave me money so that you could go to store to get us chips and anything else that we need." He finishes smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You have got to be kidding me, dad did not say that." Great, now my father was against me too, what did I ever do to deserve this kind of punishment?

"Well," he drags, "he didn't actually say that you had to get _everything_ we wanted, but it was implied."

I let out another moan of despair and hang my head. There goes my day of trying to get something productive done. I hop off the bed and begin heading towards the doorway.

Just as I am about to leave I look back at my brother who is still sitting on his bed and grinning like a maniac. I sigh and give in, "fine, but just this once Henry." I lean against the door frame to watch his reaction. His eyes light up and he jumps, fist raised into the air.

"Yes!" he shouts with a huge grin present on his face. I laugh as I retreat back into my room. Even though Henry can sometimes be an obnoxious brat, he, like everyone, has his sweet moments that make it hard for me to ever deny him of something that would make him happy.

* * *

After triple checking that my brother and his two friends would be alright at home without me, I tighten my wool scarf around my neck, adjust my earmuffs, and open the door to outside. A bitter wind nips at my face as I step outside into the winter wonderland. I close the door behind me, pocket the key and begin my long walk to the grocery store. Under normal circumstances the walk would only take me fifteen minutes, but seeing as there was about five inches of snow on the ground I will be lucky if I make it in half an hour.

My breath comes out in small puffs as I walk down the snow covered sidewalk, past various shops all decorated for Christmas. I smile and wave at some kids that rush past me with their friends, some carrying snowballs and some just with lumps of snow in their hands. None the less, they hurl the snow at one another, shrieking and laughing as the some of the bitter cold substance manages to touch their exposed necks.

I begin to hum, 'Let it Snow', as I attempt to catch a snowflake and when I do I greet the icy coolness of the flake when it touches my tongue with glee. I release a happy sigh as my eyes dance around the scenery around me. The bare trees all tremble with the added weight of the snow on their limbs. One tree branch can't handle the added pressure so with one particular blow of the winter wind, a lump of snow falls from the branch onto a pedestrians head. I cover my mouth with my red mitten to stop a giggle as I watch the said business man scowl up at the tree.

I am about to turn the corner when I notice something out of the corner of my eye. I stop in mid-stride and spin on my heel. I let out a loud gasp which causes a couple of people to give me a second glance.

"Sorry," I mutter, and begin to push past a couple of pedestrians, advancing towards the figure that caught my attention. There! Strolling not even a couple of metres in front of me is a teenager wearing a strikingly familiar blue sweater and carrying a ridiculous Shepard's staff.

It is the same boy from last night!

"Hey!" I call, waving my hand in the air as an attempt to get his attention, "you with the staff, uh, thing!"

He whirls around and points an accusing finger at himself, questioning if he is the one that I am referring to.

"Yes you, with the white hair!" I walk closer to him, trying to ignore the strange looks that people are beginning to give me.

His face takes on a very confused look, as if not believing that I am talking to him. He glances around himself, double checking that I am not talking to the person behind or near him.

I approach him and he begins to back away slowly, that's when I notice he isn't wearing any shoes.

"Aren't your feet cold?" I ask, completely oblivious of the fact that he is staring at me open mouthed. Have I mentioned that I am incredible at starting conversations? One of my many specialities: right after my amazing ability to deduce the most obvious things.

"You can see me?" he finally blurts out. My eyes widen and then squint down into slits. Was this guy on drugs?

"Um," I begin, slowly realizing that confronting this possibly crazy boy may not have been my best idea ever, considering that the first time I thought I saw him was jumping from roof to roof.

The chatter of the people walking around us drowns out what would have been a very awkward pause. I shift from foot to foot before replying, "yeah, listen, I think I might have made a mistake, sorry to bother you!" I rush out, before quickly whipping around and briskly walking away from the dumbstruck teenager.

"Wait!" I hear him call out from behind me and I pick up my pace while balling my hands up into fists inside of my mittens. Why did I have to talk to him? Couldn't my blatant curiosity just shut up for a couple of minutes? I cringe as I hear him call out to me again so I turn my long quick strides into a slight jog. Jeez, this guy was a nut job: who in the dead of winter wears no shoes, no jacket, and carries around a stick? Clearly not someone who was sane, but what if he was homeless? The thought of that causes my heart to clench and I _almost _turn back around, but I batter my sympathetic subconscious down and continue jogging up the street.

At this point I am extremely lost in my thoughts about this mysterious boy that I fail to notice that I am jogging right past the grocery store, when I do realize, I am about to turn back when I collide with an achingly hard surface. Embarrassingly enough, I slip on the snow and land right on my back. A steering pain shoots up my spine to my head and I let out a groan that sounds more like an old man wheeze. I attempt to regain my footing, but with my currently spinning head I manage to almost fall again, but at the last second someone takes a hold of my elbow and straightens me upright.

I look up to thank the person who had helped me up and when I do I am met with a broadly smiling face.

"I'm Jack!"

"Ah!" I shriek, springing back a bit, "what th- argh what are you doing!?"

My face turns a beet red, embarrassed that the boy that I was running away from had helped me. I brace myself to resume my run again when he replies.

"Well, I saw that you were about to fall, so I helped you!" he replies cheerfully, leaning a little bit on his staff. I try give him a sheepish grin but that turns out more like a grimace. That's when I realize that he's not actually standing.

He's floating.

My mind goes blank, I feel the temperature drop in my body, and I do what any other rational girl would have done in my situation, I scream bloody murder. I sprint as fast as I can away from the boy, alien, creature thing, or whatever he is without looking back.

The adrenaline pumps through my body as I rush past stores and houses. The only thought racing through my mind is that I _have_ to get away from this being. I had never seen something, heard, or even thought that something like _him _could exist! Was the universe playing one huge joke on me? The 'Mess with Camila's Brain Game', as if I didn't have enough going on already! No, let's just throw in a floating boy with a Shepard's hook in the mix too, that will lighten her up!

I don't even notice when I reach my house. I scramble up the porch steps and with shaking hands, fumble around in my jacket pocket to find the house key. A feeling of relief washes over me when I feel the familiar grooves of the key in my hands. I insert it into the key hole, rush into the house, and slam the door shut. I slide against the door until I am sitting on the floor. My thoughts are a scrambled mess, and I could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache emerge.

My brother Henry interrupts my thoughts as he yells down the stairs from his bedroom, "Cam?"

"Yeah?" I croak back, shutting my eyes tightly, and pressing my palms tightly to my cheeks.

"Did you get our chips?"


End file.
